Jeannine Alton reflects on a sparkling Strauss success at Garsington Opera

Stalwarts of the Garsington repertory are predictably Mozart, Haydn, Rossini, and less predictably, Richard Strauss. Recent years have brought us his excursions into Greek mythology. Now we have Intermezzo, a Zeitoper (opera of everyday life) described by Strauss as "Eine Brgerlicher Kom-die mit sinfonishen Zwischenspielen" (bourgeois comedy with symphonic interludes) and by me as "une gageure" (a challenge).

Yvonne Kennedy as Christine in the hands of Anna the chambermaid, played by Lynda RussellThis deliberate cosmopolitan frolic leads inescapably to the language problem. In April the veteran critic Rodney Milnes launched a diatribe against the whole country house opera theme and specifically Garsington's decision to perform Intermezzo in German. He was duly lambasted by our Arts Editor, my friend and colleague (oh all, right, my boss) Christopher Gray for his global whinge on food and drink, delayed trains and his own inability to drive.

Has the cantankerous old boy got a point though? Intermezzo presents special problems, combining informal, almost trivial, dialogue and orchestral interludes conveying mood, emotion and scene changes. This sequential technique is familiar enough now; the remarkably frank autobiographical content may still be disconcerting.

It began in 1902 on the Isle of Wight (surely an operatic first) when Strauss received a telegram from his fiery-tempered wife Pauline, demanding a divorce on the grounds of his affair with a person called Mieze Mcke (a trouble-making name if ever there was one). The mystery was quickly solved - a misheard name, a guiltless husband - but it evidently rankled. In 1916 Strauss decided to use it as a subject . . . original title Matrimonial Bliss. He was determined, too. His great collaborator Hoffmannsthal was too serious, a second librettist Hermann Bahr was too flippant, so he wrote his own, including a dig at Pauline's own infatuation with a conman, Baron Lummer. There was a terrible row in the car after the first performance in 1924, but their lives stayed linked forever as we poignantly hear in the Four Last Songs.

Garsington's solutions are several. Surtitles for the text, an unbeatable music and production team, and ravishing Yvonne Kenny as Christine/Pauline. The result? Another Garsington triumph, opening with bustling marital bickering (though that huge gold wedding ring inscribed 'Christine und Robert' is always centre stage) to end with the acknowledgement of love. The surtitles, located top left, convey essentials, though not all the domestic trivia or the card-playing chums' patter. This production and design team works wonders on fixed set, filling the interludes with wit and fantasy - a snowball fight, a masked ball with luscious waltzes, a thunderstorm, a train journey, a final, cheeky OTT Christmas. Elgar Howarth and the Garsington Orchestra follow all the twists of the score - light strings, crashing brass for the letter scene, echoes of Tristan before the reconciliation.

The singers, upstairs and downstairs, are as accomplished as ever. The put-upon Strauss servants are splendid, especially Lynda Russell's chambermaid. Can you be unforgettable as podgy, slow-witted idler? Jeffrey Lloyd-Roberts manages it as Baron Lummer. Norwegian Tom Erik Lie, personable and strong-voiced, makes a triumphant British debut as Robert/Richard. But the evening was Yvonne Kenny's. In glorious voice, rarely off-stage, she holds us all with pouts and passions and silliness, impossible, irresistible, in love with the husband she berates.

Only criticism? (Silly criticism?) She is much more beautiful than Pauline. Enjoy a sparkling evening.